A new kind of love
by MichaellaD
Summary: Jane and Lisbon's nights together. (And one afternoon.)
1. Never been this far before

**A/N: This could practically be rated K+. I threw a fit and rebelled recently at all the M-rated "Jane and Lisbon explore their new relationship" stories, so I wrote this up. It's very tame; I was trying for romantic rather than lascivious.**

**I am firmly in the rather old-fashioned camp of some things being left to the imagination. Am I a dying breed?**

**You'll notice I tried very hard to keep the time frame ambiguous; I want it to be in canon when the new season starts.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist or the lyrics to You've Never Been This Far Before by Conway Twitty.**

* * *

_I can almost hear the stillness_  
_As it yields to the sound of your heart beating_

They're sitting on the couch, their arms entwined around each other. It's the end of a long day, and they're happy in the welcome calm.

Whenever they're in the same room, they can't stop touching each other. Jane's pretty sure Lisbon will get tired of this, in about two weeks, but he'll take every moment of closeness he can until then. And then - he'll steal them; he'll scheme his way into her orbit at every possible moment; plot how to never break contact with her at work without being draped all over her. (Not that _he_ would care about how that would look, but he would run a grave risk of disembowelment.)

He gradually clears his mind of all the troubles wrought upon him today. Today is over and done with, and it has no place here and now. The rough, loud sounds that have bombarded him all day - car horns, phones ringing, people yelling - fade away and he can finally concentrate fully on the woman in his arms.

He closes his eyes in pleasure at the feel of her heatbeat thumping softly aginst his chest, slow and regular, the heatbeat of someone who is entirely relaxed, completely trusting of the man holding them. It is all the sweeter because it has taken them so long to get here.

_And I can almost hear the echo_  
_Of the thoughts that I know you must be thinking_

She's facing away from him, but the subtle shift of her body, the barely perceptible acceleration of her pulse, the faint hitch in her hitherto regular breathing - he can't help but figure out what she's thinking. He puts his mouth close by her ear.

"Stop thinking so much," he breathes. "You're spoiling the mood."

_And I can feel your body tremble_  
_As you wonder what this moment holds in store_

He's leading her to the bedroom because he doesn't think he could make it carrying her, and anyway she insists that he's used up enough clichés on her already.

She's doing a fine job of pretending nonchalance but she couldn't hide from him even if he wasn't touching her. As it is, the slight frissons that have been attacking her spine give her away completely.

He's astonished that she can have any doubts about where this is going. He's going to have his work cut out for him, raising her self-esteem.

_And as I put my arms around you_  
_I can tell you've never been this far before_

Her knees have hit the edge of the bed - she can't run away any more. She turns around and he wants to laugh at the look on her face, desire and tenderness and defiance to hide her nervousness all in one.

But he knows that would be suicide so he wraps his arms around her and kisses her gently. It is a promise that this is really what he wants.

He knows she's giving him an out, but he doesn't need one anymore. She's given him so much, denied herself for his sake in so many ways, but right now she's most antsy about the fact that this is something that had never even been mentioned between them before. The subject has been taboo for so long that now she doesn't know how to say what she wants from him tonight.

He holds her, his hands ghosting softly over her back, until he's sure she's sure about this.

_I don't know what I'm saying_  
_As my trembling fingers touch forbidden places_

She's lying on the bed, and looking down at her he runs his hand up the back of her neck and allows it to become tangled in the touselled hair covering the pillow. Her green eyes are looking up at him with so much faith that his breath catches in his throat.

His mouth is moving but he has no clue what is coming out, or even if anything is coming out. She's not looking taken aback or upset, in fact she's running her hands over his back in a way that is driving him wild, so he concludes that his subconscious knows what it's doing.

His hand trembles as he moves it down to her bare waist but he doesn't bother trying to conceal this. Tonight deserves complete and total honesty, and that includes not hiding how nervous _he_ is about the whole affair.

_I only know that I have waited_  
_For so long for the chance that we are taking_

He has wanted to touch her for ten years, wanted to hold her in his arms for eight years. He's wanted to kiss her for five years, wanted everything she could give for four years. He's wanted her to love him the way he loves her for the last three years; he's been trying to find the courage to tell her this for the last six months.

Not so long ago he finally took a chance with no idea of how it would turn out. And now, the pile of clothes at the side of the bed keeps growing...

_I don't know and I don't care_  
_What made you tell him you don't love him anymore_

He can tell the exact moment when Pike enters her mind and the only thing that keeps him from giving her some space (besides the fact that pulling away from her now might kill him) is that she pushes out any thoughts of her ex-fiancé right away.

Good. He's not sorry for what happened to Pike (although he'll do his best if Lisbon asks him to be). The important thing is that Lisbon chose _him_. She'll tell him tomorrow exactly why she decided she preferred to be with him instead of Pike and he'll figure it out before she opens her mouth, but he is definitely not going to think about anyone but Lisbon tonight.

And for a good part of the morning.

_And as I taste your tender kisses_  
_I can tell you've never been this far before_

As she presses herself against his body he can almost _feel_ her shyness. She's never even seen him shirtless and he can tell she's wondering if he's about to fly away out the window, like he had in so many of her dreams.

He smiles as he kisses her and delights in her answering thrill. It's very endearing.

_And as I take the love you're giving_  
_I can feel the tension building in your mind_

They've switched places now; he's under her while she kisses him. Sweetly, as if she fears he'll break. It's a new side to her, and one he's not sorry to discover.

She's finally comfortable enough in their new situation to take initiative. He's a little surprised it's taken her this long, but considering all the thoughts that are running wild in her head, perhaps it's not that unusual.

If she's not careful, that tension is going to extend to her body. He'll have to avoid that. He takes control again and kisses her passionately until she's forgotten all her worries.

At least he's pretty sure she has. Right now he can't string two thoughts together.

_And you're wondering if tomorrow_  
_I'll still love you like I'm loving you tonight_

Even in sleep she clutches him tightly. It hurts a little bit when he realizes that she's scared he won't still be loving her in the morning, but he knows it's only because everything has been so new and raw.

She's not used to honesty from him so her sleeping mind has reverted to the thoughts that have been normal for so long.

He swears, mentally. (He's not really in a condition right now to form audible words.)

He's going to do everything in his power to chase those thoughts out of her mind. Starting yesterday.

_You have no way of knowing_  
_But tonight will only make me love you more_

He's happy she's drifted off but _he_ is not going to get any sleep tonight. It doesn't matter that he's dog tired - when the woman you love is sleeping in your arms, you savour every possible moment.

He files away all her little quirks: the way her nose wrinkles when she's dreaming; the tiny snort she gives when she changes position; her deep, even breaths; the way she holds him so strongly. In the morning he'll tease her about each and every one and she'll never know that they've made him fall even more in love with her.

(He _thinks_ she won't figure it out, but Jane still doesn't realize how well Lisbon knows him.)

_And I hope that you'll believe me_  
_'Cause I know you've never been this far before_

She starts to stir a little after 6:30 (years of waking up at this time for work kicking in) and he rubs his warm hand on her arm.

He decides that the most wonderful part of the whole night is getting to watch Teresa Lisbon wake up.

He smiles at the way she freezes for a moment - she's just realized where she is. He can't see her face but he knows she's blushing. Once again he stops himself from laughing. After everything they did last night, waking up in his arms is the embarassing part?

"I love you." He doesn't even think about it, it just comes out. Apparently that first time was like the breaking of a dam. He feels like he can't stop himself from saying it anytime, anywhere.

She relaxes into him with a soft sigh. He's pleased to note that her worries of the night have disappeared.

He snatches her up, holds her a little closer. He's taken aback by the unexpected well of emotion that's overtaken him.

How could he have allowed himself to lock away this memory? How had he forgotten what this was like?

The most beautiful thing on this planet is a woman who trusts her man unreservedly.

* * *

**A/N: When I said Lisbon had never seen Jane shirtless, that was because I was pretty sure she hadn't told him a blow-by-blow of what happened after he almost drowned, so that is what he believes.**


	2. Just another woman in love

**A/N: Okay, I was ****_not_**** intending to lengthen this, but I thought this was the perfect song to tell Lisbon's side of the story: Just Another Woman In Love by Anne Murray.**

* * *

_I'm strong, I'm sure I'm in control  
A lady with a plan_

She's smiling to herself. For possibly the first time in their long relationship, she's holding all the cards. He is the vulnerable one, she is the one holding out. Of course, this won't last long, but she is going to milk it while she can.

She can almost feel the rush of power go straight to her head.

_Believing that life  
Is a neat little package I hold in my hand_

They're sitting on the couch, their arms entwined around each other. This lazy evening (now turning into night) has been her suggestion. Nothing too strenuous. Not today. She didn't feel up to it.

And he had acquiesced, noting the determined look on her face. Good. They were going to do this her way. She really didn't want to rush anything. They had all the time in the world.

She already has it all planned out. She's _been_ planning it subconsciously for a long time, after all.

_I've got it together  
They call me the girl  
Who knows just what to say and do_

She's always been in control of herself. Always known what she wanted, and said so. Never saw any reason to alter that philosophy when it came to her love life.

So why is this so hard when it comes to Patrick Jane? He had appeared to respect her wishes, seemed to be okay with taking it slow. (Is that what she really wants? Suddenly she's not sure.) But he certainly isn't proceeding at her speed anymore.

If she confronted him, he would insist he wasn't doing anything. And he isn't, but he doesn't need to. It's as plain as the nose on her face what he's thinking. Well, she won't let him win - she tries to be as unaffected as possible. The worst thing to do would be to let him know she's noticed...

He whispers in her ear: "Stop thinking so much. You're spoiling the mood."

Darn.

_Still, I fumble and fall  
Run into the wall_

They're actually walking to the bedroom. She feels like she's dreaming. And she keeps getting conflicting signals.

Why is he only touching her back? Is she misunderstanding? Are they merely going to sleep tonight? Surely they should be navigating blindly at this point, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

Of course, that course of action is rather impractical. She remembers all the other times she's done that, usually involving falling over something or stubbing her toe rather painfully. Still, if anyone could manage, it would be Jane.

She steadfastly refuses to turn her head and look at him. She doesn't want him to see that she doesn't know what's happening.

_'Cause when it comes to you  
I'm just another woman in love_  
_A kid out of school_

The bed is approaching. She wants to run and she doesn't; wants this to go farther and yet somehow doesn't either. She turns around slowly to face him and his other arm snakes quietly around her waist.

She wants this so much, but it's exactly because she wants this so much that she's so freaked out. Of course her feelings are painted all over her face. Very sexy, she thinks disgustedly.

Jane kisses her gently. It's comforting, almost a promise. _Why_ can't she relax? She has _never_ been this nervous about a non-life threatening situation before. Even with Greg, and she'd had the excuse of innocence back then.

But now she's extremely grateful for how well Jane reads her, because he's content to stand there and hold her while she buries her face in his jacket and takes some deep breaths.

_A fire out of control  
Just another fool_

But soon, she notices that that jacket is awfully scratchy. It really has to go... He's kissing her again, more passionately; the kind of kiss that leads to something more. It's burning her up inside.

Somehow, without her noticing, he's divested her of her shirt. She can't help smiling. Now that's a magic trick she wouldn't mind seeing over and over again. And it wouldn't really bother her if he never told her how it's done. Feeling foolish would be a small price to pay.

_You touch me and I'm weak  
I'm a feather in the wind  
And I can't wait to feel you touching me again_

He's running his fingers through her hair. She guesses that this is as close to heaven as she'll get on this earth; feeling his touch, hearing his words of love, a myriad compliments, overwhelming her in sheer number, each more extravagant than the last... And all of them stealing another small piece of her heart.

He pulls his hand off her neck and she almost cries out at the sense of loss. Fortunately it doesn't last long.

He runs his hand so slowly down her body to her waist. Is that a tremble she feels? The fact that he's nervous (and lets her know) only makes her love him more.

_With you, I'm just another woman  
Just another woman in love_

She has known nothing comparable to this, to being held by a man who worships her unreservedly.

She knows this is nothing special. The things she's feeling right now - they're nothing new. Millions of women before her have felt exactly this way, and millions to come will experience the same. All those country songs, all those poems, all those books are proof of that. But this knowledge doesn't affect her pleasure in the least.

After all, why mess with success?

_So pardon me_ _If I should stare_  
_And tremble like a child_

She is literally shaking with desire. That's never happened before. She decides it's only because they've waited so long. Certainly not because she might be losing control. Although handing over the reins has never been so appealing, she must admit.

Looking into his blue, blue eyes, she's starting to lose herself. And what is more, she doesn't care.

_That wanting me look_  
_All over your face_  
_Is driving me wild_

She hasn't shut her eyes yet once. She just can't quite get over the look in his. And the thought that it is entirely focused on her is incredibly heady. It makes her feels like a femme fatale, a minx, and Cleopatra all in one. She's not afraid to be completely feminine with him now (she'd always held back before through some nameless fear), knowing that _she_ is the one he desires.

She has a brief moment of (enjoyable) fear. Will he ever turn it off? Could she control herself if he didn't?

_I'm just what you make me_  
_Can't wait till you take me_  
_And set all my feelings free_

He's being so gentle, telegraphing all his moves with the briefest of pauses to make sure she's on board. She'd been afraid that he would just go ahead without consulting her feelings, thinking he knew best (the fact that he probably would isn't the point), and doing what he liked.

Even Pike (the most considerate man on the planet) had done that occasionally. But Pike on his best night hadn't come close the almost psychal connection she's feeling with Jane. She finally closes her eyes, basking in the fact that she is now exactly where she belongs.

_I know that you can_  
_So come be my man_

She's resting on top of him, kissing him softly. She has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

There aren't words enough to describe how thoughtful he has been and is being. Without thinking consciously about it, her kisses sweeten, becoming soothing. His hand runs softly through her hair. She thinks she knows what he's trying to say.

He's here for her. He will never leave her again.

_Tonight, I want to be  
Just another woman in love_  
_A kid out of school_

She has never been in love before. Now that she knows what it's really like, there is absolutely no comparison. She feels like a teenager with her first crush. She's ready to move the world for him, ready to carry him through life when he needs it. Though tonight she just wants to wallow in the glow that is pervading her soul.

She's far too old to have any firsts to share with him, but somehow they're not necessary. Being in love has made everything fresh and new. She hopes this feeling never goes away.

_A fire out of control_  
_Just another fool_

She's getting a little worried. Is she paying enough attention to what _he_ wants? Should she being saying something right now? If so, then what, exactly? What is there to say to a man you've been in and out of love with for a decade, and never even kissed him?

She wants him to take over, help her to forget these unhelpful thoughts. But now she's being selfish, she frets. She should be able to control her own thoughts. Everything has gone so well so far, she should just roll with whatever happens.

But then he tumbles her over onto her back and is kissing her senseless and she can't think coherently enough anymore to even be grateful.

_You touch me and I'm weak_  
_I'm a feather in the wind  
And I can't wait to feel you touching me again_

Even though it's her day off, she wakes up at 6:30. Her bed is lovely and warm and she wants to stay there all morning... Then the warmth moves, trailing lightly up her back and coming to rest on her shoulder, and she realizes she is not sleeping on a pillow, she's sleeping on Jane's chest.

She freezes. Uh oh. All those delightful dreams she half-remembers - please let her not have been talking in her sleep! She blushes red as fire.

"I love you," he says.

She relaxes into him. Either the leopard has changed its spots or he doesn't know anything. But now she's almost disappointed. As embarassing as it would be to have him know what she'd been dreaming, she wouldn't have minded having a few of those dreams made into reality. She decides to drop him a few hints later on.

_With you, I'm just another woman_  
_Just another woman in love_

She sighs with pleasure at the feel of his strong (okay, maybe that's an exaggeration) arms around her. She's turning into one of those helpless females who do nothing but wait for their prince to rescue them.

Oddly enough, that idea no longer bothers her. Probably because she's sure for the first time that he actually will be there for her when she needs him now. She's surprised at how comforting that thought is. She knows that soon enough they'll have to get up and make breakfast, but she's happy to lie here for now, no sound but his heartbeat.

He shifts slightly. "Did you know you snort when you sleep?"

She smiles into his chest. "Oh hush."

* * *

**A/N: As we speak, I already have an idea for a third chapter. (What is happening to me? I need to get my mind out of the gutter!)**

**So, I'm wondering if anyone would read it.**


	3. Love on a hot afternoon

**A/N: This one is in a different style. Firstly, this is sometime after their "first time". You can supply your own timeline. Secondly, it's written in the past tense. It just worked out that way. Thirdly, there's a lot of dialogue. And it's funnier. In my opinion.**

**Enjoy! It's set to Love On A Hot Afternoon by Gene Watson. I have loved this song since I was little, and long before I really should have been able to understand what it was talking about.**

* * *

_We went out in the park this morning_  
_And we sat, without talkin'_

Miraculously, they had a day off. Together. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he'd had a heated discussion with Abbott that morning, or that he'd had a few _suggestions_ for his boss. No, not at all.

Lisbon hadn't wanted anything special. They'd done his thing the last couple times, and they'd had fun, too, but he let her have her choice this time. She picked the park.

They'd been good enough friends for years now to be able to sit on a park bench without saying a word, happy in each other's company. It was one of the things he'd missed like the fury when Lisbon had first come to the FBI. They simply hadn't just sat together anymore. It was the sort of thing one did with their closest friends, and he didn't have any of those, really.

Of course, now that there was also the distinct possibility that he might get lucky later on, there was a new angle to their time together.

_Then she came back here_  
_In the heat of the day, tired of walkin'_

They'd come back home after having a substandard hotdog for lunch.

"Why didn't I put up the air conditioner?" Lisbon asked into thin air. "Now I'm too hot to."

Jane just smiled.

"I never feel like doing anything on a day like this," Lisbon complained mildly.

"Oh, I can think of something," Jane said, coming over and wrapping his arms around her.

"Jane! Seriously? I'm all sweaty... It's not worth it."

Jane whispered throatily in her ear then. "You know, Teresa, the two best times for making love are: when it's hot and when it's not."

Lisbon just wasn't able to help herself. She started laughing. "All right, you win."

___But now I know t__hat she's just a girl_  
_And I'm just a guy_

The experience was always so primal, so basal. Jane loved it. Somehow nothing seemed to matter when he was in her arms. He was addicted to the feeling. Sometimes she even made him forget everything for a time, which was a miracle incomparable to anything recorded in the Scriptures.

He craved her touch. The only thing that kept him from feeling like a fool was the knowledge that she craved his at least as much. So he gave her what she wanted, sweeping his hands over her in hot, languid strokes until she grew impatient and demanded more. She took over, exploring his body with her clever fingers...

It was always new with them. Somehow they always found themselves back at the beginning. Back to the basics of what make the world go 'round.

___In a room_  
_Full of love in the hot afternoon_

She was lying on top of him, arms folded across his chest, staring at him while he toyed with the ends of her hair.

"You are the most beautiful woman I know," he said softly.

She rolled off him with a sharp groan. "Come off it. I haven't washed my hair in two days, I don't have any makeup on, and I'm sure my face is all red."

Jane propped himself up on his elbow. "Uh uh. I refuse to let you run away from compliments this time. Look at me." He put his hand on her elbow, compelling her to look into his eyes. "You deserve every compliment you've ever been given, _and_ all the ones no one had the nerve to say in front of you."

She blushed and lowered her eyes. He shook her elbow slightly. "I'm serious." He made his face as open and honest as possible. He watched her eyes soften, as they always did when he shed his last defence: teasing. "You _are_ the most beautiful woman I know." He allowed his eyes to regain their mischevious spark. "I'm going to have to teach you how to accept a compliment. It's very easy. Repeat after me: Thank you."

"Jane." Her eyes were laughing, showing that she wanted him to continue.

"Come on. It's easy. Thank... you." He motioned with his hand.

"Thank. You." She mimicked his tone.

"Excellent!" His smile was completely genuine. It wasn't often she went along with his games. "Now, let's do a trial run. _So_... I love how long and shapely your legs are."

She hit him lightly in the arm. "Come on."

"No no no no no! Remember - _thank you_. Let's try again. Your skin is so soft" - his voice dropped unintentionally - "and warm."

She blushed. "Thank you," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "Thank you," she repeated firmly.

"I love the way your hair sweeps in dark waves across your shoulders." He edged closer, sweeping a stray curl of her forehead.

"Thank you," she articulated carefully.

"Your eyes are as green as the sea," he declared truthfully, his face inches away from hers.

Lisbon, under any other circumstances, would have laughed out loud at such a statement. But he could tell that her mind was pinioned under her gaze. He was suitably impressed when she managed to remember to say thank you.

"When you're nearby, Teresa," he whispered, "I don't want to do anything but look at you." His eyes darkened further. "Now do you doubt that you are the most beautiful woman in the universe?"

She threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly. Neither of them said anything else for a long time.

_From somewhere outside_  
_I hear a street vendor cry, "Filet gumbo"  
__From my window I see him_  
_Going down the street_

Through the window that had been left open a crack they could hear the distinctive sound of the van that drove around the city, sharpening people's knives.

"Oh no!" Lisbon moaned, disentangling their various limbs and sitting up. "We have that bread knife that needs sharpening!"

Jane wrapped his arms back around her. "Don't you dare. You're my prisoner now and if you try to escape there will be dire consequences!" He dragged her down under him and pinned her with his weight. She looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked.

"You realize I know four different ways of throwing you off the bed from this position?"

"I'd love to see you try," he said, eyes twinkling. He moved his hands down her body, hitting all her ticklish spots with merciless accuracy.

"Stop! Stop!" she cried, choking with laughter. He kept it up just a moment longer, just to prove his present superiority. She looked up at him, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Jane had never seen her look quite so adorable ever before. He gave her another two minutes to compose herself (it was as long as he could control himself) before capturing her lips and picking up again where that dang knife sharpener had so rudely interrupted them.

_And he don't know that we fell right to sleep_  
_In the damp tangled sheets so soon_  
_After love in the hot afternoon_

Jane ran his fingers idly through Lisbon's hair. She'd fallen asleep almost right away. Her face was so peaceful looking, despite still being slightly flushed, as it rested on her crumpled pillow. He was pretty sure she'd be immeasurably cheered up by the time she woke. But for now, he was completely content to run his hand over her lovely, pale (though admittedly sweaty) skin. Just to remind himself that she really was here. She really wanted to be here, with him.

The light sheet which was their only covering draped mysteriously over her curves, hiding just enough to be very interesting. To touch it would break the spell, of course, so instead he looked, and gave free rein to his imagination. Which now was based on real experience. He had had to admit to himself after their first night that his imagination had been sadly deficient when it came to the real thing.

Normally, _afterwards_, he was on far too much of a high (which event he rather hoped wouldn't ever wear off) to sleep. Jane was rather surprised to feel himself drifting off now. He attributed it to the heat. There was something about vigourous exercise when it was hot out that just made a body want to collapse.

He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. He could definitely get behind an exercise regimen like this one.

_Now my lovely sweet lady_  
_Sleeps like a baby in the shadows_

Jane knew that Lisbon rarely got enough sleep. (Though now that she wasn't boss anymore her schedule was slightly more normal.)

So to help her out with this he did his level best to tire her out whenever possible. He had several excellent methods, but his favourite by far was to make love to her. There was literally no downside to it. Then, when she was thoroughly worn out, he could watch her sleeping self as she lay draped over the other side of the bed. Nothing else on the planet had the same capacity to calm him down as watching her eyelids twitch while she floated far away in Dreamland.

_She was new to me  
Full of mystery_

He had thought he knew all aspects of Lisbon. But seductive-Teresa (one of only two he had named Teresa, the other being wife-Teresa) was fascinating because it was the one he couldn't predict - yet.

He'd caught glimpses over the years of this facet of her personality, mostly when she came into the office after a one-night stand, but it was the one part of her he'd been unable to explore, mainly because he'd known there was no way he could go there while Red John was around. _Now_, however...

Considering all the time he was spending in seductive-Teresa's company at the moment, he was fairly sure he would know all her ins and outs soon enough, but meanwhile the journey was definitely agreeable.

_But now I know t__hat she's just a girl_  
_And I'm just a guy_

Somehow life was so much less complicated when outside trappings were shed and discarded, Jane mused. In this instance, clothing.

He no longer felt the need to get a rise out of her, and she no longer felt that she needed to control him; their complicated relationship was left behind at the door. In their sweet bedroom sanctuary, they were just a man and a woman who wanted the best for each other.

Their mental baggage and work-related stress took temporary flight. The worries and cares of the day would disappear for several blissful hours. And when the real world would intrude, as it inevitably did, they would emerge with renewed confidence and vigour, knowing their peace of mind was a short flight of the imagination away.

_In a room_  
_Full of love in the hot afternoon_

Lisbon winced as, upon awakening, she once more became aware of the hot, sticky air surrounding her. She _was_ pleasantly surprised to see that Jane had fallen asleep beside her. She'd have let him sleep, but at the first moment of her stirring, he woke up.

"I'd have let you sleep," she said softly, her mansuetude coming to the fore yet again.

He beamed at her. "I know. But I wanted to see you when you woke up. You always look so adorable."

She gave a mock bow, awkward because she was still sitting in bed. "Thank you." The corners of her mouth twitched upwards.

A genuine grin spread across his face. Slowly, because he was surprised. "You're turning into a real princess, accepting any compliments with great panache."

"Well, when they're delivered by such a wonderful man..."

"Yes, there is that."

"You're impossible."

"You know, I love you best when when you're trying not to laugh and failing miserably."

"I hope that's not a compliment, because I absolutely refuse to thank you for that horrid statement."

_Where under her breath_  
_She hummed to herself a tune_  
_Of love in the hot afternoon_

Jane watched from the bed as Lisbon got dressed. This was an activity he particularly loved, though he would complain loudly about the fact that she was covering up her body. It had become their little ritual.

She was humming a sweet little tune as she buttoned up her shirt.

"What's that song?" he asked, interested.

"I don't know. My Mom used to be singing it sometimes when we came home from school." She smiled to herself then got an odd look on her face as a certain thought struck her.

Jane started trying not to laugh. "Your father didn't happen to be home early on those days, did he?"

Lisbon pointed an angry finger at him. "Not another word! I refuse to let you tarnish a lovely memory of my mother!"

"Now, Teresa, I'm pretty sure you did that all by yourself."

She swept out of the room. Jane settled back into the pillows, grinning. He'd bet anything he had that that lovely smug little half-smile Lisbon had so desperately been trying to hide had also once been on her mother's face as she hummed that particular tune.

The song was actually rather catchy, he thought. He'd have to learn it, then he could sing it at work...

* * *

**A/N: I didn't take the street vendor thing literally because I've never heard of gumbo, let alone anyone selling it. I just picked a knife sharpener because those are making a comeback.**

**Although I'm not taking this story's status off "complete", I do sense a fourth chapter coming on... Have the three thus far been good enough to warrant a continuation?**


End file.
